


Unsere Freiheit

by admiralty



Series: The X-Files: Season 12 [6]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, MSR, Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s11e10 My Struggle IV, Season/Series 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-02 10:04:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21159869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/admiralty/pseuds/admiralty
Summary: Season finale. An old friend contacts Mulder and Scully with information that could lead them back to their son. Scully goes into labor.





	1. Act One

**Author's Note:**

> This is Episode Six. To start at the beginning, read [Episode One](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20700824/chapters/49172258) first!

  
COLD OPEN

VAN DE KAMP FARM

NOWHERE, WYOMING

2006

The little boy’s mother smiled as she tucked him into bed, beneath his hand-knit blue blankie, wearing his choo-choo train pajamas. She settled next to him as he leaned into her, and she pulled out the story he’d chosen for the evening.

“_Once there was a little bunny who wanted to run away. So he said to his mother, ‘I am running away.’ ‘If you run away,’ said his mother, ‘I will run after you. For you are my little bunny._’”

“Did the bunny run far away?” Jackson piped up. He was always piping up.

“He tried, but his mommy found him.” She continued the story, over mountains, down streams, up trees. Eventually, the bunny ended up as a crocus in a hidden garden.

“'_If you become a crocus in a hidden garden,’ said his mother, ‘I will be a gardener. And I will find you.’ _”

Jackson looked at the illustration, searching and searching for the bunny in the garden.

“The bunny hid so well, no one could find him,” explained his mother, “even though he was right in front of them the entire time.”

“Even his mommy?” Jackson asked.

“No. His mommy could always find him,” his mother assured him. “No matter what, his mommy looked for him. And no matter what, she found him.”

Jackson was quiet for a moment. “Mommy?” he asked.

“Yes, my love?” 

“If I ran away, would you come find me no matter what?”

“No matter what, Jackson,” she said. “Because I’m your mother.”

“Promise?” he asked.

“Promise.”

He smiled and snuggled in as she held him tightly and finished the story. Then she kissed him goodnight, tucked him in, and with one final smile at the doorway, turned out the light. 

Jackson snuggled beneath the covers, holding onto his blankie. The night sky out his window was endless, dotted with bright stars, but he felt safe and secure.

_ No matter what. _

*** TITLE SEQUENCE***

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
ACT ONE

THE UNREMARKABLE HOUSE

FARRS CORNER, VA

OCTOBER 30, 2018

Fall had arrived in Farr’s Corner. The summer heat had carried through into early October but over the course of the month the chill had finally begun to settle in, which Mulder knew was much to Scully’s third trimester relief. The grounds around the house were covered in orange leaves and a light breeze made the plastic skeleton hanging on their front door dance.

Inside the cozy house, Scully opened a bag of Kit Kats and poured them into a bowl as Mulder watched, confused.

“For the trick-or-treaters,” she explained, like _ duh_.

“Scully, we haven’t had a trick-or-treater out here since… ever,” he pointed out.

“Fine. They’re for me,” she admitted. He grinned. She’d earned them, surely.

Plucking two from the bowl, she wandered into the living room and settled her hugely pregnant self onto the couch next to him with a sigh. She handed him a Kit Kat and they tore them open, just looking out the window.

He combed his hand lazily through her hair. “I really like the long hair, Scully,” he said. “Are you planning to keep it this way, though? I hear little hands like to do a little grabbing.”

“She can grab whatever she wants,” Scully decided. “I’m keeping it long.”

“I wasn’t talking about the baby,” he replied with a mischievous grin. 

She smiled back with a roll of her eyes and shoved him playfully. They both sighed contentedly and sat in comfortable silence for a while. 

“What do you think of Lily?” she suddenly said.

“For the baby?” Mulder asked, and she nodded. “I like it,” he said. “How’d you come up with that one?”

She shrugged. “I thought of it the other day. It’s pretty, and it makes me think of springtime. A fresh start, clean slate.” She looked over at him. “Felt right for us.”

“You’ve convinced me,” he said. “It’s perfect.”

“Ha, that was easy,” she muttered. “If only all our discourse ended so amicably.”

“I suppose I’m easy to please in my autumn years,” Mulder grinned.

“What about you? Did you have any ideas?” She broke off another piece of her candy bar.

“I only thought of one, and you probably wouldn’t go for it,” he said.

“Try me.”

“Okay. Margaret. After your mom.” Mulder had always had a special relationship with Scully's mother, especially after he’d lost his own. After they’d been on the run all those years ago and things had finally settled down, Margaret Scully had been a comfort to them both. She’d helped them find their home, helped them feel grounded.

Scully smiled. “Mulder, I’m touched.” She looked thoughtful, weighing this. “What if Margaret were her middle name?”

He nodded, her response indicating to him she liked the name she’d picked precisely because it _was_ a fresh start, a new name, not one that carried any unnecessary weight or baggage. This seemed a fair compromise. “Lily Margaret Scully-Mulder,” he said. 

“No,” she said. “Lily Margaret Mulder.” 

He looked down at her, eyebrows raised.

“It’s what I want,” Scully assured him. That look brooked no refusal. Anyway, it felt right. There were no questions, no uncertainty this time around. He knew this meant something to her.

“Okay,” he agreed, leaning over to place a kiss on her forehead. “You’re the boss.” It was settled, with only a day to spare. “You ready for tomorrow?” Her induction was scheduled for the next morning, on Halloween.

She leaned back into the couch and rubbed her belly. “I am. Are you?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more excited to meet someone in my entire life,” he said, unable to hide said excitement. “It’s going to be so different not being just the two of us.” Daggoo whined from under his feet as if the dog understood. “Three of us,” he amended. 

He brought his favorite alien mug to his lips for a sip of decaf solidarity coffee and could almost feel the imaginary caffeine coursing through his system. Scully looked at him with a wistful smile, then her attention went to the window again. 

“You okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, I’m good, really,” she said. “I’m just thinking about him again today. Remembering this part, you know. Last time.”

Mulder hated even thinking about last time. He took her hand. “I’m going to be here for you, Scully. Every step. I promise.”

“Oh, I know that, Mulder,” she said, her attention back on him. “I just meant… you know, Jackson. If he’s out there somewhere, if he’s okay. I guess I may never stop hoping someday he might miraculously turn up at our door.”

Mulder nodded. It was a hope they’d never truly dismiss, regardless of the happiness they’d found with each other again and all the exciting changes they were soon to experience. 

He stood up. “Well, I’d better get to work. You gonna be okay here by yourself?”

Scully rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, Mulder. The Keatons are on call in case I need a ride to the hospital. But I don’t think this baby will come out until she’s good and ready.”

“If all our attempts to induce labor haven’t worked, I think you’re probably right,” he said, his eyebrows lifting. Her doctor had suggested all manner of home remedies to get labor progressing naturally, and he certainly wasn't opposed to the frequency of sex they'd been having.

He leaned down with his arms pinned on either side of her to draw out a long, loaded kiss. But she gently pushed his chest after a moment. “None of that, Professor, if you want to make it to class on time.”

“Haven’t they learned enough?” he whined.

“Apparently, you haven’t,” she chided. “Now get.”

He gave her one last smile and headed out the door. Daggoo ran after him and barked as he always did, then ran immediately back to the couch where he hopped up next to Scully and went back to sleep.

***

Scully had spent so much of her life being lonely it was almost difficult to accept that she wasn’t anymore. She had Mulder, of course, and Daggoo. But very, very soon this little house would be alive with laughter, with activity. 

With family.

When was the last time she had really experienced family?

She stood in their second bedroom, the one that had represented so much pain and heartache over the years, now laden with hope. The crib, the rocking chair, the toy box. The bookcase.

She knelt down and ran her finger along the book spines, dozens of colors and titles containing stories old and new that she and Mulder would get to share with their daughter. 

Mulder had put together most of the nursery, including books he’d purchased. Most of them were children’s books about ghosts or monsters, and the thought of him reading them excitedly to their girl made her smile. But then her finger stopped at a worn looking book she recognized. She pulled it out.

This one was a classic: _ The Runaway Bunny. _She opened it and looked inside, finding an inscription.

_ 2001 _

_ To William _

_ Thanks for finding us. _

_ Love, Daddy _

She remembered the day Mulder wrote this; on the happiest day of their lives. It had been fleeting, as happiness tended to be with the two of them, but powerful. She flipped through the book, reading the story, which suddenly took on an entirely new meaning.

She put the book back on the shelf and went downstairs. She’d just made a hot cup of herbal tea and situated herself on the couch to read a book when her cell rang.

“Can’t go without me for even an hour, huh?” she said into the phone, smiling.

“Scully, are you up for a drive?” came Mulder’s voice, alarmed.

“I was just lying down, what’s going on?”

“I think… I think you need to come down to work. There’s someone here who needs to talk to us… about our son.”

“Who?” she asked, sitting up. “What is it, Mulder?”

Mulder paused, then spoke again. “Scully… it’s John Doggett.”

QUANTICO, VA

FOX MULDER’S OFFICE

11:21 AM

Mulder hadn’t seen John Doggett in years, but the man looked exactly the same. Just as Monica had re-entered their lives a few months ago in Scully’s office, they were now face to face with yet another piece of their past, their unfortunately dark past, in Mulder’s office. 

Still, it was a strange comfort to see him again, and Mulder felt the need to tell him so. “It’s good to see you again, Agent Doggett,” he said, as Scully sat down in his office chair. “What have you been up to all this time?” 

“Well, you can drop the ‘Agent’ first of all,” Doggett explained. “I left the FBI ten years ago. Started working at the Pentagon. Returned to my roots, you might say. But after a few years they transferred me over to Mount Weather and put me on… you know. Clean up crew.”

“Clean up crew?” Scully asked, confused.

“Yeah, Scully,” Mulder looked at her. “_Clean up crew_,” he enunciated pointedly.

_ “_Oh,” she said, getting it. _ That _ kind of clean-up crew. No wonder he had information for them.

“I was put in charge of destroying files,” he explained. “I guess they didn’t do enough research on my background, or maybe just assumed I was still the straight laced agent I always was.” Doggett pulled out a manila envelope that was thick with documents and set it on the desk directly in front of them. “So I broke a few rules.”

Scully eyed him. “You, John?”

“I guess the X-Files never truly leave you, do they?” he grinned. “I was able to track down something I think you should have, Dana. If you want to know, it’s all here. The truth.”

“The truth about what?” Mulder asked.

“Everything.”

Mulder couldn’t help but smile at the irony, the full-circle feeling of eternally bullheaded skeptic John Doggett bringing them ‘the truth.’ 

Scully didn’t hesitate. She opened the clasp and slid the packet of papers out. Mulder pulled another chair up and sat next to her to look as well.

At first he wasn’t quite sure what they were looking at. They were printouts of what appeared to be records that dated back years. At the top was Scully’s full name, birthdate, and other simple identifying factors. But beneath it was something that gave him pause. There were dates, and information recorded at each one. He looked at the first entry.

  
**11.11.1994 **

**Location: George Washington Hospital **

**Status: healthy **

“The date you were returned from your abduction,” Mulder said. Scully flipped pages and dragged her finger down several entries.

**01.13.1995**

**Location: St Paul, Minnesota**

**Status: heart rate aberrant **

“Heart rate aberrant?” Scully read aloud. “What is this about?”

Mulder knew instantly what it meant. “It’s your chip, Scully,” he breathed. “That’s when they began monitoring you.” He flipped through the pages and sure enough; it was days, weeks, months, years of data all attributed to Scully. 

His hand instinctively went to the back of her neck and so did her own, her fingers colliding with his. He searched his memory for the past. _ January, ‘95, Minnesota. _

Donnie Pfaster. 

She seemed to come to the same realization and her eyes closed as she took it in.

Mulder flipped back through the stack, searching for a specific entry.

“Look, here’s when you removed it,” he pointed out. The entry was dated September 22nd, 1995. Under “status” it read “inert.” There was a two year gap afterwards where there were no entries, nothing at all.

“And here’s where we put in the second one,” she pointed out. Sure enough, the records started up again on the date she’d received the news of her cancer remission. It was a date neither of them had ever forgotten, for obvious reasons.

“They’ve been tracking you this entire time, Scully. Monitoring your health and everything.” Mulder said quietly. “Something new here, though,” he pointed out. Scully read what he was pointing at. 

Underneath the entry for the new chip, there was a designation beneath it that read _ Advocator: C.G.B.S. _

Mulder felt sick to his stomach. C.G.B. Spender’s chip had indeed saved Scully’s life, but in turning her life over to it she had unknowingly and unwillingly become his test subject. 

“Advocator?” Mulder mumbled. “Is that what he calls himself?”

The idea that Spender had exerted such control over her, over both of them for so long was unsettling. Mulder felt a stab of guilt for having been the one to suggest inserting the second chip into her body in the first place. “This was my idea, Scully,” he said. “I told you to put this thing in your neck.”

Scully covered his hand with her own and leaned into him. “Mulder, you saved my life. You had no choice.”

“But what if I did have a choice, Scully?” It was something he hadn’t had to face until now. What if he’d made the wrong choice? “What if we hadn’t put that thing in your neck and you’d lived anyway? Think of everything that would have prevented.”

“There’s no way to know that. There was no choice. Not for you, anyway. I could have said no, no to the chip, no to everything. I could have given up. But I didn’t, Mulder. I chose to live, because the choice to be alive, to be fighting next to you for every extra day I could, was the right choice.”

She brought his hand down to her lap, squeezing it, and smiled. “To this day, I know it was the right decision.”

He nodded. He hated even thinking about her cancer, how close she'd been to death, and how all of that had felt. It had been a terrible time for them both, and he’d even considered ending his own life at the time. That they were both here now, alive, together? Well, that must mean they’d done the right thing. 

Doggett watched them, and Mulder could see he was taking all of this in. He wasn’t sure how much of this information Doggett had actually read, or what he’d been able to learn about Scully or himself over the past few months. 

“I think there’s an entry here you’ll want to see,” Doggett said. He took the stack of papers from Scully and turned to one he’d earmarked. He spun the papers around and slid them across the desk, indicating.

**03.19.2000**

**Location: Milford, Pennsylvania **

**Status: Branched DNA activated **

**Advocator: C.G.B.S.**

“Mulder,” Scully breathed. It was the date she and Spender had traveled to Pennsylvania. She’d confessed to Mulder that she’d never truly known what had actually happened on that trip, what he’d done to her. In what ways he’d violated her. “There are notes here,” she gestured.

**Addendum: Branched DNA in subject has been inactive since commencement of experimentation in 1994. It has been reactivated by this Advocator on date recorded in hopes of a fruitful genetic outcome. **

It was galling to see yet again the amount of control Spender had exerted over Scully’s body. But this information was valuable. Scully was not recorded as pregnant on this date. The horrifying truth they’d feared, that Spender was the father of their son was, according to Spender’s own notes, in fact not true.

“Then… how…?” Scully asked.

“Look further down,” Doggett pointed. Mulder craned his neck to see the entry he was pointing at. 

**04.30.2000**

**Location: Los Angeles, CA**

**Status: project successful **

**Advocator: C.G.B.S.**

“It isn’t often parents can know with absolute certainty when their baby was conceived,” Doggett pointed out. Then he looked away and his ears turned pink as he cleared his throat. 

“_The Lazarus Bowl_, Scully,” Mulder said. They eyed each other. “I guess something good came out of that crap movie after all.”

This was all the truth he could ever have hoped for. They were three thousand miles away from D.C., from C.G.B. fucking Spender, from the X Files, from all of it. And they’d made William that night, together. There was no room for error.

This was the truth, the real truth. And Spender had known it the entire time, that lying bastard. 

Mulder breathed a sigh of relief. Scully and Mulder had discussed what Spender had said, what Skinner had said, all of it over and over again since that fateful night. They never believed Spender was the father of their child because they couldn’t, they wouldn’t. It was something their hearts simply wouldn’t allow them to believe. But to have the proof in their hands here and now was an enormous relief.

“Why, Mulder?” Scully asked, breathless. “Why would he lie to us about this? So many years later? Just to torment us?”

Mulder shook his head. “Maybe it’s like you said, all those years ago… this was his legacy. He wanted to claim William as his, so he did. He never expected we’d see this.”

The three of them sat silently, and Mulder glanced at Doggett, wondering what he made of all of this. It was so intensely personal to them, and Mulder was grateful for the information, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit uncomfortable. 

“So, is this… part of Project Crossroads, then?” Scully asked.

Doggett nodded. “Dr. Matsumoto was trying to hide all the kids,” he explained. “But the Department of Defense is relentless. They’ll stop at nothing to clean all of this up so that the project can continue.” He looked up at the both of them. “I know you know this only too well.”

Jackson. Their son, hunted and attacked in his own home. His adoptive parents, shot dead on the floor. These families would all be in danger.

“This brings me to the main reason I’m here,” Doggett said. “We need to get the master list of all the families that were involved as test subjects, and I think I know exactly where it is.” He looked at Mulder. “But I’m going to need your help.”

“My help? Why?”

“There’s a certain amount of sidestepping I’m going to have to do to get to where we need to go. And I can’t do it alone.”

Mulder looked at Scully, then down at her stomach. He opened his mouth, helpless. 

“I can see this isn’t the best time, and I am sorry about that. But you two are the only ones I can trust,” Doggett added.

Scully looked to Mulder, seeming to know what had to be done, and nodded. “You have to go, Mulder. I’ll be fine.”

Their eyes searched each other, having one of those conversations they didn’t need to speak aloud. It didn’t seem to matter how old they got; they’d never stop knowing what the right thing to do was. And they were so grateful to Doggett for bringing them this priceless gift of truth. 

If he needed their help, they both knew they had to answer that call.


	2. Act Two

ACT TWO

THE UNREMARKABLE HOUSE

FARRS CORNER, VA

OCTOBER 30, 2018 8:04 PM

“Are you really going to tuck me in, Mulder?” Scully asked, rolling her eyes. “Kind of early, isn’t it?” He was turning down her side of the bed and she sat on the edge.

“I just want you to rest, okay? I’ll be back in…” he looked at his watch, “three hours tops. This should be an in and out situation.”

Mount Weather was less than an hour from where they lived, but she was skeptical of this optimistic prediction and raised an eyebrow to punctuate it.

“Should be,” he repeated with a smile.

“You know I’d go with you, but…” she shrugged.

“I always want you with me,” he said. “But I won’t think any less of you if you sit this one out, okay?” he grinned. He placed his hand on her stomach. “Precious cargo and all.”

She smiled, but had that same wistful look in her eyes she’d had this morning. He didn’t want to leave anything unsaid.

“You okay?” he asked. He crouched down in front of her, his hands on the tops of her thighs. “Do you want me to stay?”

“No,” she said immediately. “The timing of this is awful but you have to go. I’d never forgive myself if we ignored an opportunity to save lives.”

“Then what is it?”

She sighed. “I’m just… thinking about things.”

“What things?”

She moved his hands until they lay across her abdomen again, and he looked up at her. 

“All those records, Mulder. I’m afraid... of this feeling I have, where I’m completely out of control of what happens to me.”

He let that sink in. “None of us are in control of anything, not really.”

“But this is different,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s… _ him_.”

He knew who she meant when she said _ him _ like that, with disgust, with regret.

“Honey.” Mulder said it gently and she smiled. He knew she loved when he called her that. It felt simple and normal, something they hadn’t had enough of. “It’s over. All of that is over now.” He didn’t want to give that cigarette smoking bastard any more of his time, and he certainly didn’t want her to, either. 

She shook her head. “You don’t understand,” she said. “It’s not. It won’t ever be over.” She moved his hand to the back of her neck and heard him exhale quietly. “It will never be over. Not for me.”

His gut lurched as he understood. It was something Mulder had always battled with, that in a way her mere existence, her survival, would always be in debt to that fucking monster even though he himself had been the very cause of her suffering. How was she supposed to move forward, truly forward, from that?

He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t have the answer. 

“Scully, I don’t want you to think about that. Okay?” He stood slowly to kiss her lips softly. “I only want you to think about this,” he said, rubbing her belly softly, “and us, and everything we have to look forward to.”

She looked into his eyes and smiled. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a downer today, Mulder,” she said. “I think… in my effort to be completely open with you I’m just making things difficult.”

“I don’t want you to think that either, Scully, ever. I always want you to tell me what you’re feeling. And we will figure this out together, okay?” She nodded. “But right now, you need to get some sleep. Because tomorrow everything is going to change for us.”

She nodded, and with a tiny grin she pulled him in for another kiss. “Don’t be long," she whispered, holding his forehead against hers. "If you miss this second birth, you might just experience a second death.”

He laughed. “I won’t miss it. I’ll be back soon, okay?”

“Be careful.” He nodded, and was gone.

  
  
  


MOUNT WEATHER

BLUEMONT, VA

9:08 PM

Mulder parked the Mustang a half mile away and he and Doggett crept towards the base under cover of darkness. The last time he’d done this, Mulder had been caught, arrested for murder, tried and sentenced to death. He was older and wiser now, and had much more to lose, but it would be folly to assume there wasn’t a risk that history would repeat itself. 

Doggett led the way, seeming to know exactly where to go; exactly where the fewest guards would be posted. They waited for the third shift to take over, seized their moment, and used his keycard to enter the facility unnoticed. Mulder knew the basic layout of the facility but allowed Doggett to lead again, as they crept quietly along impossibly long catwalks and up and down flights of metal stairs until he was certain they’d probably never find their way out.

There were far fewer people during third shift. When Mulder had been given the key to this place last time he’d been under a very specific set of instructions, and was forced to enter the facility while it swarmed with employees. In hindsight, it had certainly been a setup, but he still wanted to proceed with caution this time. He tried to swallow the optimism that he could feel begin to surge within him, knowing not to celebrate until they were back outside, back in the Mustang, racing home to Scully with the information safely in their possession.

Doggett suddenly flattened himself against a wall and Mulder followed suit, the ragged cavern-like edges digging into his back. A couple of guards were patrolling the catwalk across from them, and they were completely visible. He pressed into the wall as hard as he could, remaining perfectly still. Luckily, the guards passed without incident and Doggett grabbed his arm, pulling him through the door next to them.

They now stood in an enormous hangar-type room. Mulder wondered how deep into the facility they were and hoped Doggett knew the way out, because he certainly didn’t. 

“We’re almost there,” Doggett said over his shoulder. “I’m gonna need you to be lookout.”

Doggett beckoned and stepped into a freight elevator that would presumably take them down to the ground floor, and as Mulder dashed in and turned around he caught the eye of a guard who had just moved into his line of sight.

_“Spooky”_ Fox Mulder wasn’t an unknown entity in these parts. He knew recognition when he saw it.

The doors closed and he turned to Doggett. “Shit, I think he saw me.”

Mulder hit the button for the nearest floor but it was too late: the elevator suddenly screeched to a halt, shuddering as it stopped, settling between two floors. They could hear commotion above as the guard was getting on his walkie and ostensibly alerting all of Mount Weather to their presence. The lights dimmed and warning lights illuminated above them.

They were stuck.

***

“What do you think they’re doing out there?” Doggett asked, as Mulder attempted to pry the elevator doors open.

“I don’t know, but I’m sure they’ve called for the calvary by now,” Mulder sighed. He jabbed at buttons with no response, then looked down at his cell. No service. “Shit. This could take hours.” 

Mulder hit the doors, hard. He screamed in frustration. “They’re gonna arrest us,” he said, rather unnecessarily. “They’re gonna take us to jail, where I’m going to miss the birth of my baby. Again.” He covered his face in his hands and dragged his fingers down his cheeks. “I can’t miss it again, I can’t…”

He backed against the wall and slid down until he was sitting on the floor, his back to the wall. Doggett crossed to the other side and sat across from him. 

“I’m so sorry,” Doggett said. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Mulder waved him off, knowing it wasn’t his fault they were stuck here. It was his own fault. It was always his own fault.

Doggett had never been one for intimate conversation, and neither had Mulder, at least with him, so it came as no surprise that they sat in silence for what felt like several minutes before Mulder finally spoke again.

“There are a lot of things I’ve had to forgive myself for over the years,” he said softly. “A lot. But I’ll never forgive myself if I’m not there for her again.”

Doggett was still silent, as if he wasn’t sure what to say.

“You remember, you were there.” Mulder continued. “I know we were a little distracted.” He looked Doggett in the eye. “When I sent her away, it was for a good reason. I needed to keep her safe, I did. But… I was also busy looking for the truth.”

Mulder looked back down at the floor, his arms resting on his knees. He chuckled to himself scornfully. “The truth, the truth. I promised Scully this kind of thing would never happen again, and here we are, on some quest for answers, while she’s out there needing me.”

“But you need this information. You both need it. It’s important,” Doggett said.

“She’s my family," Mulder said simply. "Nothing is more important than her." Doggett backed down in silent agreement.

“Scully told me about your boy,” Mulder said after a few moments, suddenly cognizant of the fact that he wasn’t the only one in the elevator who’d suffered a tragedy. “I’m sorry. I never really got the opportunity to tell you how sorry I am… about that.”

Doggett looked up, taken aback by the comment. His eyes softened a bit and he nodded.

“I don’t want to pretend to understand your particular loss, but I do understand loss,” Mulder continued. “My sister was taken from me when I was a kid.” He was sure Doggett knew this already from his tenure on the X Files but he'd never opened up to him about anything before. “It took me years to find out what happened to her, how she died. It was painful but… just knowing the truth was a release, in a way. I felt… free.” He looked up. “Maybe when you solved your son's case you found the same freedom. But our son… I fear we’ll never be free. That we’ll be bound forever by this… uncertainty. The not knowing.”

For a moment Doggett locked eyes with him and Mulder swore he saw real empathy, perhaps a remnant of the years spent searching for his own son. “Every minute we get to spend with our loved ones is precious,” Doggett said softly. “I’ve definitely learned that the hard way.”

Mulder looked down at his hands and smiled. “Two days,” he said. “I spent two days with my son. They were the best goddamn forty eight hours of my life. And I can’t ever get that back again, I won’t…” he trailed off, lost. There were no words to adequately describe the feeling of helplessness that swam through his veins.

The two men eyed each other with some kind of shared understanding. Doggett cleared his throat and fixed Mulder with a gaze that was ripe with revelation. And just as he opened his mouth to speak, a familiar gruff voice rang out in the distance.

“Agent Mulder!” 

Mulder looked up at the source of the voice, identifying it immediately. _ Skinner. _

The two men watched as the doors were slowly pried open. Finally, they opened completely to reveal Skinner, arms akimbo, standing between two military officers holding back the reluctant metal on both sides. He glared at Mulder, then his eyes flickered over to Doggett, registering the slightest hint of recognition, then surprise. But he was in no mood for pleasantries.

“You two are in a lot of trouble,” Skinner said.

  
  
  


D.C. CENTRAL DETENTION

WASHINGTON. D.C.

10:33 PM

_ Jesus, Mulder, _Scully thought as she drove to the county jail. She could barely fit behind the wheel and knew her doctor would disapprove of her driving at all, but doing whatever she could to get Mulder out was her only option. The baby was coming soon, and it broke her heart to think of him missing the birth for the second time.

She flashed her FBI badge and was allowed into the cell block, and found herself face to face with not only Mulder but, in an adjoining cell, Doggett. 

She wore an exasperated expression she knew both men would find familiar, and put her hand to her forehead.

“Mulder…” she said with annoyance.

“I’m sorry,” he replied sheepishly. “Hopefully I can get out in time to catch the kid's fourth or fifth birthday party.”

“That’s not funny,” she warned. “We’re getting you both out right now. Where’s Skinner?”

“He’s not very happy with us, Scully,” Mulder explained. She opened her mouth to reply but the door to the cell block swung open and in walked the man himself.

“Skinner, what is all this? Let them out,” she said with more annoyance than worry. “Tell me this isn’t the worst thing you’ve let Mulder get away with.”

“Never mind all that,” Skinner said abruptly. “There’s been a bit of… a development.” He was holding out a cell phone to Scully.

“What? What is this?” she asked, indicating the phone. 

“Just take the call,” he said pointedly, eyeing Doggett. Then he spun on his heel and left. She looked over to Mulder, then to Doggett, and both looked just as confused as she felt.

“Hello? Who is this?” she asked into the phone. And to her great surprise, a very familiar voice responded on the other end, sounding just as confused.

_ "Dana?” _

John Doggett.

_ “Dana, what the hell is going on? I get this call about an alert I’ve been arrested? I haven’t left my damn house all night.” _

Every muscle in her body tensed, as her stare locked onto John Doggett sitting in the jail cell. Her friend, her old partner. What was happening?

“...Uh... I’m sorry, where did you say you are?”

_ “I’m in New York, same as I’ve been for years. How are you, by the way? How’s Agent Mulder?” _

“Um,” her eyes darted to Mulder who continued watching her with a confused look on his face. _ What’s going on_, he mouthed. She didn’t fucking know. “We’re good. Did you say you’re in New York? Right now?”

_ “Yeah, can you tell me what’s going on?” _ Doggett asked.

Scully’s mouth turned completely dry. The man sitting in the jail cell before her was not Agent Doggett. Maybe he hadn’t been this entire time. Thoughts of shape-shifters and alien bounty hunters and all manner of dangerous wild possibilities entered her mind, before she even entertained the idea that the John Doggett on the phone wasn’t real. But somehow, she knew. The John she was talking to on the phone was the real Doggett. She could feel it.

“I’m going to hang up, and I’m going to call you back,” Scully said deliberately.

_ “Okay, sure, but-” _ she clicked off the phone and put it in her pocket, her eyes locked onto the Doggett look-alike. She wasn’t entirely sure how to proceed. Were they in danger, actual danger right now?

She searched the man’s eyes for an answer, and soon realized she didn’t have a choice on whether or not to reveal she knew he was an impostor. He was aware she knew already. 

“Don’t be afraid,” the man said.

“Tell me who you are,” she said to him. Mulder glanced at Doggett, then back to Scully, still as confused as ever.

“I wanted to tell you, I just… I wasn’t sure how.” He fixed her with a stare, as if unsure how to proceed.

"Tell us what?" she asked.

“I didn’t remember anything at all for a long time, but recently I started to remember things from… before,” he said quietly.

She looked at him closely. What was he talking about?

“I’m sorry, I don’t… I don’t know what you mean,” she said. The man stood up, walking slowly across the cell. He held onto one of the bars and looked at her.

“They come to me in flashes. Sometimes when I’m sleeping, and I wake up, and think it was a dream but it’s a memory. First it was a smell, like a powder or something. Maybe a perfume or a shampoo. I don’t know what it is but I smelled it when you dropped that snow globe on the ground.”

Her entire body froze. She couldn’t breathe. Her lips slowly parted and her head tilted to one side. 

_ It can’t be. _He stepped closer.

“And... there was a song. I'd heard it on the radio, on one of my mom’s oldies stations. ‘Joy to the fishes in the deep blue sea…’”

Scully’s eyes widened and she held her hand over her mouth. In her peripheral vision she could see Mulder’s head turn to face this person who wasn’t Doggett. The man came closer and she heard him breathing. He was only a couple of feet away from her. 

“Joy to you and me,” he finished, in a flat intonation. She looked into piercing blue eyes that were familiar already; Doggett’s eyes. But the way he looked at her now… she knew. 

In an instant she was struck with a memory, the memory of gripping Mulder’s arm in that factory in desperation. And she recalled the moment when, regardless of his outward appearance, regardless of the chaos and insanity surrounding them, she’d looked into Mulder’s eyes and known with absolute certainty she was looking into the eyes of her son.

“J-Jackson…?” she breathed. “Is it really you?”


	3. Act Three

ACT THREE

  
  


Scully felt like she had lost all the oxygen in her body. Mulder came as close as he could, eyes wide. Jackson looked at the ground, then up at her through the bars. Without thinking, she closed the distance between them and covered his hand with her own, desperate for the contact. 

“Please, let me see your face,” she whispered. Her eyes were full of tears and she didn’t want to scare him but this was all too much. She knew one thing: she wasn’t going to leave this cell block without looking her son in the eyes. 

And suddenly she was looking at him, at his real face. She choked back a small sob and came closer until both her hands were over his. Their faces were inches apart. 

“Oh my God,” she whispered. The tears were falling freely now and she rested her head against the bar, closing her eyes from the weight of it all. He remained where he was but she sensed his discomfort. She pulled away and removed her hands from his, giving him space. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I just can’t believe this,” she said.

Mulder still hadn’t said anything, but she stole a glance at him, sensing his loss for words.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner,” Jackson said. “I should have told you a while ago. Months, in fact.”

She looked back at him. “Months? What do you mean?”

“Close your eyes,” he said. She did. “Now open them.” She did, and standing before her was a somewhat familiar face: the trainee Karen from her class. Then, an old woman she did not recognize but Mulder did.

“From the grocery store,” he said in disbelief. 

Then finally, a young kid she recognized from the presidential rally: the one who had reached out to touch her stomach. Her breath caught in her chest at how close they’d been, at the contact she’d been oblivious to all these months.

She and Mulder glanced at one another, incredulous, and when they looked back Jackson had returned to his own form once again. 

Mulder’s mouth was agape. He was utterly speechless, and she understood the feeling. But she pushed ahead, not knowing if and when they’d have this chance again, the chance to talk to their son. He was trapped in a jail cell and he couldn’t run away this time.

“I don’t even know where to start,” she said, wiping tears away. “Where have you been? What have you been doing this whole time?”

“I’ve been looking for answers, about myself, about you two…” he shrugged.

She heard Mulder in the back of her mind. _Looking for the truth. _Like father, like son.

“Why did you pose as Agent Doggett?” she asked. “How did you even know about him?”

Jackson shook his head. “I’ve dug up so much information on you guys over the past several months, I feel like I know you both much better than I should. John Doggett was a name I saw just enough to make me think you’d trust him, but not enough that you’d really know him.” He looked up at her beneath dark locks of hair. “Was I right?”

Scully nodded, still full of shock and relief to know with certainty that Jackson was, in fact, alive. 

“I’m really sorry about this, the timing of it,” he said, nodding at Scully’s enormous belly. “It just… it had to be today. I found those files and I knew if we didn’t get to them right away they’d realize it and destroy everything having to do with the project.”

“How did you get all this information?” Mulder asked. “Getting into Mount Weather? Accessing these files?”

“It’s easy when you can change faces,” he explained. “And I’ve had months of practice. I’m getting pretty good at it.”

Scully had to say it, and although she knew now might not be the best time, sometimes life worked out that way. “I know you’ve been on your own for some time, but I just want you to know that, if you need someone… we can be here for you.” She looked at Mulder, then back at Jackson. “We will always be here for you, Jackson.”

His eyes were Mulder’s, she was now realizing. Her heart was so full of this moment she thought it might burst. 

“I meant what I said before,” he said. “You seem like a really nice person, and I know I’m _ your _ son, but…” he trailed off, mercifully sparing her the second part of that sentence. The part that would gut her. _ You’re not my mother. _Scully swallowed hard and looked at the floor.

“...My mother is dead,” Jackson finished, choosing different words. “It’s going to take a while for me to think differently.”

Scully returned her gaze to Jackson’s and nodded. It hurt, but what did she expect? She had known him so long ago, only as an infant, and his memories of her were practically nonexistent. His memories of his adoptive mother were enough to fill his entire life; a life she hadn’t been there for. She was so grateful to see him, alive and in front of her, but this was pain she’d hoped had gone away. This was pain she was still working to move past.

“I understand, I do,” she said quietly. 

_ William. Her son. Here, in the flesh. _

“For right now, though, can we… be friends? Would that be okay?” she asked. 

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed. “I could use a friend right now.”

Her heart was breaking for him but she didn’t push. If they were going to have a relationship of some kind, any kind, it would have to be on his terms. 

She smiled and walked up to him again, looking closely. And she could see that Mulder was studying his face, too. They hadn’t had the luxury of doing so before. 

As she looked into his eyes she allowed herself to appreciate the gravity of this moment, where she could look at his face and see Mulder. Eyes that were shaped like his, the dominant brown allele expressing itself over the recessive hazel with tiny flecks of green. The prominent, stately Mulder nose. The same jawline she traced with her fingertips so frequently. 

This was their son, and she could now regard him as such with the certainty she’d desperately craved for months, whether she’d admitted it to herself or not. The truth was standing here before her.

And just as she allowed herself to reclaim him as her child, a sharp contraction reminded her she had a responsibility to another. She’d done this before, and recognized what was happening.

“Mulder.”

One word and he was as close as he could be, her hand reaching for his in between the bars. Her other hand clutched her enormous belly and she swayed slightly on her feet.

“It’s time?” he said, like an old pro. She appreciated his attempt to remain calm even though she knew he was bursting.

She nodded and squeezed her eyes shut, breathing through the contraction. “We have to go.”

Mulder gestured around him. “I’m a little indisposed, Scully,” he said, his previously withheld panic beginning to rise.

Scully called for Skinner in a voice she rarely used, and he came inside the block, alarmed. He approached her and took in the sight, catching up in an instant.

“Whoa! Let’s get you to the hospital,” he said, taking her arm. 

“No... I need Mulder…” she looked over at him, desperate.

“It’s okay, Scully,” Mulder said. “I will be there. We will clear up this misunderstanding and I will be there.”

“Mulder, you two broke into government property,” Skinner gritted. “This isn’t a misunderstanding.”

Scully turned to Skinner, fire in her eyes. “I am not leaving without him, so unless you want to deliver this baby yourself right here in the jail you will _ make _ this a misunderstanding,” she shouted. He looked a bit skeptical at this proposition. “I don’t care what you do or who you do or what strings you have to pull. Do it now, Skinner!”

Angry Scully always seemed to put Skinner off guard but Angry Pregnant Scully was an entirely different animal. Wordlessly, Skinner gestured to a guard to unlock the cell.

“Our son, too,” Scully said through her teeth, blowing air through them in pain. Skinner looked over at the cell that had previously been occupied by Agent Doggett, which now held an eighteen year old young man. It only took him a moment to piece everything together.

“It’s okay, I’m fine,” Jackson insisted. “You need to go, please just go.”

Skinner looked at the two of them. “He’s right, just go. I promise I’ll handle this.”

Mulder took Scully by the arm and began to lead her out. She turned back to her son.

“Jackson, will you come to the hospital? Please?” Scully asked. It occurred to her that he may not, and she couldn’t do anything about that. Literally nothing would have kept her from him but the emergence of this baby. Her hand was being forced.

Jackson nodded. “I’ll see you again, just go. Take care of your family.”

Scully saw pain and confusion in his expression and she wanted to keep talking to him forever, saying everything she’d ever wanted to say to him. 

But life had other plans. So she gave him a quick smile, which he returned, and she and Mulder left to take care of that life.

  
  
  
  
  


WARREN MEMORIAL HOSPITAL

BLUEMONT, VA

OCTOBER 31, 2018 12:19 AM

  


She hadn’t wanted it to, but William’s birth came back to her in bits and pieces, and she could recall with clarity the terror she’d felt in those moments: the fear that had gripped her very soul. Snippets of memories washed over her. She and Monica Reyes completely and utterly alone. Strangers surrounding them.

_ Please don’t let them take my baby_. 

Monica had been her rock, as calm and cool and collected as Scully had not been. They had both known full well that if the strangers wanted to take William they could and they would, and there was little either of them could do about it. But she’d locked eyes with Monica and trusted her in those moments that some way, somehow, everything would be okay.

_ Push, Dana. _

She’d pushed with all her might, the fear transcending the pain. And William had suddenly existed: a real person in her world to whom she owed everything. From that moment her life had taken yet another turn, like the many turns that had preceded it. 

The turn when she’d met Mulder. The turn when she’d been abducted and implanted. The turn when she’d survived cancer. The turn when she and Mulder had become lovers. The turn when he’d died. And the turn when he’d come back to her.

She’d become a mother. And she had done everything she possibly could to perform that role to the best of her ability. 

Including relinquishing that role.

_ Push, Dana. _

Here and now, in this comfortable hospital bed, even though everything was perfectly normal, she wasn’t sure how much further she could be pushed. Her heart had been broken so many times already, this still didn’t feel real. 

But at a certain point she stopped hearing Monica’s voice, stopped seeing the flicker of candlelight reflecting in the eyes of dozens of strangers. Stopped smelling the musty abandoned storefront in Democrat Hot Springs. She stopped hearing her own terrified screams, and instead saw Mulder near her now, coming into focus.

_ Mulder_. _ He’s really here. _

She pushed and grasped his hand as they became parents again together, and their daughter came screaming into the world, announcing her arrival like heavenly trumpets. Her face was as red as Scully’s hair as she protested the sudden lack of her mother’s warmth, and Scully could barely process Mulder moving away to cut the umbilical cord. 

Soon her daughter was placed in her arms and she felt her curl up against her breast, rooting, finding her very first truth. The baby suckled as Scully watched, amazed at how this new smart-as-a-whip creature picked it up so fast. 

Of course she would. She was part Scully, part Mulder... part Dana, part Fox... everything that made them _ them _wrapped up into this tiny person. 

Scully’s eyes sought Mulder’s and he couldn’t seem to make up his mind which of his girls he wanted to gaze at. It was, without a doubt, the single most overwhelmingly gratifying moment of her entire life. She closed her eyes, letting it in.

After a few minutes she glanced at the clock. “It’s 12:30, Mulder,” she grinned. “You got your Halloween baby.”

“My spooky little girl,” he chuckled. He reached out to stroke the top of her head. Scully watched him, her smile so big she worried it might split her face in two.

“Well?” he asked, when he could finally avert his eyes from his daughter. “What are we gonna call her?”

Scully smiled. “Lily Margaret Mulder. Just like we said.”

He smiled and leaned in to kiss her, and as their lips touched a thousand emotions crossed between them. Theirs were two lives that had been intimately intertwined for so many years, whether together or apart, with countless highs and far too many lows, but as she held their child between them, here and now was all that mattered. She felt tears on her cheeks that she couldn’t identify as his or her own, but when he pulled away his eyes were wet and shone like twin flying saucers.

“I’m so happy to meet her,” Mulder said. 

Scully felt the world stop and start anew.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	4. Act Four

* * *

ACT FOUR

WARREN MEMORIAL HOSPITAL

BLUEMONT, VA

NOVEMBER 1, 2018

For the first several hours both Scully and Mulder forgot about the distractions that had preceded the birth. They were too busy falling in love: with their child, and with each other all over again. Every minute was precious, and every hour that passed Scully was grateful for. She knew Mulder wasn’t going anywhere this time.

Their first visitor was Monica Reyes. She cradled Lily carefully and her tears were that of a survivor; one who’d been to hell and back. Scully recognized the look; she knew it all too well. 

As Monica made to leave the hospital room she stopped with her hand on the doorknob, hesitating. She turned back and looked Scully dead in the eyes.

“I’m truly glad to see you so happy, Dana,” she said with a slight catch in her voice. And then she was gone.

Their second 'visit' was a phone call Scully had promised to return, and as surprised as the real John Doggett was to hear the tale of the past several hours, he was even more surprised to hear the fussing sounds of a new baby in the background.

Their third visitor was Walter Skinner. 

“I can’t really believe I’m seeing this,” Skinner said, standing at the end of the hospital bed. Baby Lily was asleep in the bassinet beside Scully, and Mulder sat close by, hair disheveled with a five-o-clock shadow. “You two are parents. It’s… weird.”

They smiled at each other, then at their old boss. They’d all come a long way. His hasty release of both Mulder and their son, then pulling the strings necessary to keep them out of trouble left them grateful beyond measure. 

“I came to meet the kid, but also… about that information you were trying to access,” Skinner said. 

Mulder had told Skinner about the information he and Jackson had failed to retrieve at Mount Weather. Scully knew Mulder wouldn’t let it go, and in this particular case she agreed with him.

“I had every intention of keeping the work far away from here, especially today,” Skinner continued. “But there’s something I want you both to know. The list of Project Crossroads families you were searching for in that facility… I’ve had a copy of that list ever since the smoking man visited my office last February. Right after the Van de Kamps were murdered.”

That entire case had been a nightmare. It had never occurred to either of them that Skinner might actually be in possession of the information they needed.

“Spender was using me to get to your son, and he had the information on all of those families. Every single one except William.” He shook his head. “Dana, you did the right thing. You kept him safe all these years; he was impossible to find. And perhaps he’d never have been found by the D.O.D. at all if the Van de Kamps hadn’t enrolled him in the studies they did.”

“Studies?” Mulder asked.

“There was no way they could have known he was in danger, and there was no way either of you could have known he would still maintain the abilities he had as an infant. But he did, and out of concern for their child they unwittingly brought upon him the kind of attention you were trying to avoid.”

Scully felt a sharp pang of guilt. She didn’t blame herself for what had happened to his parents, but it had happened all the same. And Jackson was still out there, again, all alone.

“The truth is, I’ve been working on that list myself. For months I’ve been contacting families, gathering information. Eliminating the evidence for their protection. So that when you both found out what needed to be done, as I knew you would, I’d have most of the work done for you.”

Mulder leaned forward. “Why did you take this upon yourself? Why didn’t you just tell us?” _ Why wasn’t this an X File_, was what he left unsaid.

Skinner shook his head. “Maybe it was a mistake. I used my own judgment on this. You both have been through so much…” he opened his mouth and closed it again, unsure of what to say. But Scully understood. And part of her was extremely grateful.

“Jackson wanted to subvert the project,” she said. “What you’ve done has helped that happen. So thank you.”

Mulder nodded his agreement, and Scully wondered if the joys of new fatherhood were masking his own frustration at Skinner’s discretion. But she didn’t want to argue. What was done, was done. And they all had to move forward.

“I’d been waiting to tell you what Spender told me, even though I didn’t believe it. About the paternity. I wanted you to have all the information that I had. But everything happened so fast that night…” he trailed off, shaking his head. 

“And then you nearly died, Walter,” Scully interjected. “You were a bit busy.”

He nodded, and looked uncomfortable.

“You should know that what Spender told you about our son isn’t true,” Scully said. “Jackson was able to prove, through Spender’s own personal records, that Mulder is his father.”

Skinner looked shocked. “That’s… I’m so relieved to hear that,” he said, exhaling deeply. “I never should have said anything to you at all, without all the information, without all the facts. He’s a liar, he always has been. I should have known better and I’m sorry for putting you through that, Dana.”

She reached out to take his hand gently. “It’s okay, you did what you felt was right at the time.”

He nodded, again relieved. “There’s… something else,” Skinner then said. “I had my reasons for not sharing this with you before, and every single one of them was meant to protect your son. To protect both of you.” Scully saw Mulder stiffen. 

Skinner pulled out an envelope and handed it to Scully. Faded red ink spelled out TOP SECRET in one corner. “This was a letter Spender sent to one of the Project Crossroads scientists. Well… that’s who it was meant for. But I intercepted it.”

Scully opened the unsealed packet. The letter had a professional header at the top and was addressed to a doctor with a Japanese name she didn’t recognize. She skimmed the greeting and got to the money shot, which she read aloud to Mulder:

**“The conception of Subject Scully/Mulder in 2000 was intended to be a continuation of the work at Project Crossroads, the combination of alien DNA with human DNA to create a new breed of Super Soldier. The experiment took a turn due to the unique circumstances. Subject Dana Scully’s newly-active branched alien DNA combined naturally with the remnant alien DNA of Fox Mulder has contributed to the child’s attributes, of which we have seen no equal in any of our prior experiments, or any since. This outcome had not been planned or even dreamt of by the Syndicate in all our years of work. Indeed, as Darwin predicted, the genetic evolution of our species has been as natural as it ever was.”**

Skinner interjected. “Even Jeffrey Spender was unaware of how special William was,” he explained. “That injection he administered would have worked on any one of these other children, but not your son. There was no way anyone could have known.” 

Scully continued reading.

**“Among the attributes we have identified so far, immunity to human frailties is by far the most promising. Active branched alien DNA is immune to all human diseases. The aliens’ ability to heal has been well known among us, but never before has this ability been passed along in conception between two affected parents. It is therefore highly likely Subject Scully/Mulder will live a very, very long life.”**

She stopped reading and Mulder sat back, deep in thought. She wasn’t quite sure what exactly was on his mind; she could barely keep track of all the information they were getting. But she watched the wheels turning in his head, the unmistakable look of Fox Mulder when his beautiful mind was at work.

“That road trip you took with Spender,” he said. She flinched, still uncomfortable thinking about it. “You went with him in search of the cure for human disease. What if he gave it to you, after all?”

Scully looked at him. “What?”

“William,” Mulder said. “Jackson, I mean. He’s the cure. He’s the cure you were searching for. He’s immune to human disease. He has no human frailties. It’s exactly like they said.”

Mulder had regaled Scully with the tale of what he’d witnessed when he spoke with their son in that motel room: what Jackson was capable of, the power he had. Not to mention the fact that Mulder had witnessed him getting shot in the head. And yet he was still alive, out there somewhere. Neither of them had fooled themselves into believing their child was simply human.

Scully suddenly thought of Lizzy, the woman her mother had hired to help her out with the baby. The woman who’d told them all of this years ago. The woman she’d refused to believe.

“Even if you’re right, Mulder, and that’s what he is… how did it happen in the first place?” It had always bothered her. She was supposed to have been infertile. William’s conception, in her mind and Mulder’s, had always been nothing short of a miracle. Although she now knew exactly when and where it had happened, as much as the faith-centered part of her knew it probably couldn’t be explained, the scientific part of her desperately wanted it to be.

“What if you were never really infertile, Scully?” Mulder mused. 

“What? What do you mean?” she asked. 

“Somehow, some way… you began ovulating again.”

Scully sighed. “It doesn’t work that way, Mulder. Every single ovum in my body had been there my entire life... in utero, even,” she explained. “And they were all taken from me during my abduction.”

“But what if they weren’t?” he continued. “What if they missed a few hundred?”

She leveled her eyes at him.

“For the sake of argument,” he said, putting a hand up. “Say the doctors lied to you. Or maybe they didn’t even lie, maybe your body showed all the signs of infertility but… you weren’t.” His eyes lit up. “That hybrid, the one that looked like Kurt Crawford, when I was in that facility and found your ova… he told me part of the experimentation done on you included superovulation. Whatever they did to you increased the amount you were releasing.”

“But any ova that were left behind would be subject to evacuation during menstruation. They wouldn’t last forever. And besides, if that’s true, then why didn’t we ever… get pregnant, you know... after William? All those years...?” Her eyes darted over to Skinner who stood there uncomfortably. 

“Dumb luck?” he suggested. She scoffed. “Also, you were on the pill for… lady troubles, right?” Scully rolled her eyes. “For some of that time, at least.”

The idea that dumb luck and ‘lady troubles’ had prevented her and Mulder from making another baby for years made her want to rage. But perhaps nothing was as simple as it appeared.

She pushed ahead. “Why now, suddenly? I’m fifty four years old and it happens right now? What are the chances of that, Mulder?”

Mulder took the note from her and continued to read it. Skinner said nothing, waiting patiently.

“Scully,” he said suddenly, startled. “I’d say the chances are pretty fucking good.” He handed her the note back and she read.

** Project notes: **

** April 2000 **

** Subject Dana Scully’s aging process slowed to 15%. **

Scully froze. April 2000. Her mind immediately jumped to her road trip with Spender, and the woman they’d met. The very, very old woman, who was gardening and smiling and living the life of a newly retired sixty year old.

“Mulder… does this mean what I think it means?”

He nodded. “Your body is aging at a much slower rate than normal, controlled by the chip. Here,” he said, pointing at the document. “It’s been adjusted at different times. In ‘94 when you were returned from your abduction, you were aging at a rate of 60% compared to the rest of us. There’s a gap here when you removed the chip, but it starts back up again when your cancer went into remission.” He scanned the page closely. “So it seems when Spender messed with your chip in 2000 it got slowed way down.”

“Fifteen percent…” Scully murmured. “But that would mean…”

“It means your birth certificate says you’re 54, but your body says otherwise.” He couldn’t help himself from grinning. “I don’t need a chip to tell me that, though, Scully.”

Blowing past his remark, she sputtered. “But then… how old is my ‘body’? I was thirty in 1994, then… that’s just over five years aging at sixty percent? Followed by eighteen and a half years at fifteen percent is, what, roughly...” she was typically good at math, but her brain was a muddled mess trying to comprehend everything. 

“Forty,” Skinner piped up. She’d almost forgotten he was still standing there. “Roughly,” he added.

“So… my body thinks it’s only forty years old?”

“That’s how you got pregnant!” Mulder said triumphantly, standing up and clapping his hands together.

Scully sat, stunned. She’d joked with Mulder about being ‘immortal’ for years, but never once suspected it might actually be true. How long would she live now? Forever?

Did she even want that?

Scully could barely speak, completely shocked. Mulder sat down next to her. “It makes sense, right?”

“It makes _ no _ sense!” she cried, frustrated. “None of this makes any sense!”

He put an arm around her, and she could tell he was trying not to laugh. None of it was funny, not really. But she understood that with the two of them, sometimes incredulity could only lead to laughter. 

“Scully,” he said quietly after a moment. “It just occurred to me, that if this is the case, if that chip in your neck is truly slowing down your aging process, doesn’t it track that removing it might have sped it up?”

_ Her cancer. _Mulder was right, it did track. She shuddered to think about the women who'd died after removing their chips, and how close she must have gotten to dying, her body reacting to the loss of the chip by panicking, sprinting to the finish line. How, paired with the radiation her body had certainly been exposed to, death would have been quick and inevitable. 

If she hadn’t trusted Mulder… who in turn had trusted Spender… she would be dead.

“So what you’re saying,” she said slowly, “is that when I took the chip out I might have interrupted or altered the process, but if I hadn’t removed it at all, I’d have lived to be…” she did some quick calculations, “..._f__our hundred years old?! _” 

“Well, maybe not,” Mulder conceded. “I’m guessing if you took a bullet or fell off a bridge the chip wouldn’t be able to save you.”

She thought instantly of the bullet Agent Ritter had fired into her stomach in Alfred Fellig’s apartment all those years ago. How Fellig had taken her hand. How somehow he’d known she would be the only one who could free him. 

Maybe he hadn’t seen her death. Maybe what he’d seen was her life.

“Wow,” she breathed. It was the most incredible thing she’d ever heard in her twenty five years of this work. 

“There’s one more thing you need to know,” Skinner said. “I wanted to wait until you’d safely had the baby. Your first pregnancy was so difficult…” he looked pained, and Scully understood. Skinner had been there for her during that time when Mulder couldn’t. “I have the documentation to back this up, if you need it. The hard science that you can scrutinize to your heart’s content. But if the chip were to ever be removed, it’ll simply render the alien DNA inactive. You’ll age appropriately again.”

“But, last time-” Scully interjected. _ Last time I almost died of cancer. _

“Last time your alien DNA was already inactive when you removed the chip. That’s not the case this time, since Spender reactivated it.” Skinner looked at her pointedly. “You can take it out safely, is what I’m trying to say, if that’s what you want to do.”

Scully was floored. Maybe, just maybe, this chip, this tiny metallic bane of her very existence could finally disappear forever. She wanted to cry; she was so ready to feel that relief. Did she dare believe it? “If this is true, Mulder… I want to take it out,” she said instantly.

Lily stirred in the bedside bassinet and Mulder picked her up, cradling her close to his chest. “But Scully,” he said, “don’t you see what the chip will do? You could live to see Lily grow up. You could see her children grow up. Think of the changes you’ll see in this world. You’ve been given that opportunity.”

It made sense to her that Mulder would support this, that this wondrous, magical experience was something he’d want for her, no question. It was tempting, it truly was. But her gut was telling her she didn’t like it at all. Besides her reactionary abhorrence to its unnatural nature, she had no desire to grow old without him. 

She gave Skinner a look, and he read it expertly, leaving the tiny family alone as the door closed behind him.

“Mulder,” she said. “You agree that in the end this is my decision, right?”

He nodded. “Of course.”

“Then if this is all true, I want to remove it,” she said defiantly. He opened his mouth to protest, throw in a counter argument, prolong their dance the way they always did… but then closed it again, knowing this time it was pointless.

“I don’t want to go through the rest of my life without you, Mulder,” she said softly. “To go through that grief, to have to watch it through our child’s eyes. Then to outlive my own child... somehow attempting to pick up the pieces and move ahead...” She could feel tears forming. “Yes, I’d get extra time with Lily, and that would be a wonderful gift to have…”

“...But?” he asked.

“But I just want to be free, Mulder. Can you understand that? I just want to be done with this. Done forever with being under the control of something, or someone else. Even from the grave, he’s controlling me. And until I can be rid of this,” her hand moved to the back of her neck, “I’ll never be free.”

Lily mewled in his arms and he smiled, kissing the top of her head, then handed the child to her mother. Scully took her with a smile. Mulder looked at her quietly, then nodded. He wasn’t patronizing her. She knew he understood. 

She would take the information she’d learned, analyze the data, comb through the science to satisfy her own mind. And if Skinner’s claims were true, the chip would be coming out.

***

Jackson never showed up at the hospital, and although Scully had carried hope in her heart that he might, she knew the truth. He was still uncomfortable, still not ready. She had to respect that. If they were ever going to have a relationship, it could not be forced. 

After the requisite forty eight hours, Scully was cleared to take Lily home. The car ride was silent, as all the baby wanted to do was sleep, but Mulder reached out to take Scully’s hand, glancing over at her every couple of minutes. She looked back at him and smiled. She was okay, and she didn’t want him to think she wasn’t.

As the Explorer turned into their dirt driveway Mulder noticed the package right away. It was just a plastic bag that hung on the front doorknob.

“What’s on the door?” he said.

She shook her head in response. “I don’t know.” He pulled the car to a stop and she got out carefully, her body still recovering. Mulder pulled the car seat from the back and joined her as they walked up the steps.

There was no note, no identifying marks of any kind to indicate who had left this on their porch. But what Scully reached in and pulled out took her breath away: it was a tiny infant hat that she recognized, the one William had worn the day she gave him away. It was blue with two bunny ears sticking out of the top. She brought it to her face and inhaled, the memories rushing in as if she'd held him in her arms only yesterday.

Mulder didn't yet comprehend the meaning behind the gift, but he reached into the bag himself. "There's something else in here." He pulled out a tiny pink onesie with the words _ World’s Best Sister _ embroidered across the front.

Scully smiled, wondering how he knew the baby was a girl, and the thought crossed her mind that maybe he had come to visit them at the hospital after all.

She locked eyes with Mulder and they both knew this was a huge step; one that meant perhaps their son wouldn’t choose loneliness for the rest of his life.

THE UNREMARKABLE HOUSE

FARRS CORNER, VA

FEBRUARY 2019

Nearly four months had passed since Lily had entered their lives, and while it was quite a change to transition from the unit that had previously been “Mulder and Scully” to “Mulder and Scully, Plus One,” it was a welcome change. Scully had taken some extra maternity leave and planned to stay home with the baby for a couple more months, and Mulder raced home from work eagerly every evening to be with his family. 

Life was as close to perfect as Scully ever thought it would get. They’d finally found happiness and she was eternally grateful; everything she’d ever wanted was right here inside their home. 

Well, almost everything.

Knowing Jackson was within their reach, it was difficult to imagine him not being a part of their lives. She could only hope that someday he’d want the same thing. All they could do was wait.

One Saturday morning in February, the two of them spooned together on the couch and watched it drizzle outside the window while Lily napped. Mulder held Scully close and played with her hair, something he’d taken to doing more and more as it had grown out.

Scully wasn’t sure if it was her own mind playing tricks on her or if the long-absent visions Jackson had sent her were somehow returning, but she suddenly recalled a moment, a date that had been very important.

“Today’s the day we found him,” she said. Mulder held her close from behind, quiet for a moment, and she wasn’t sure how much she’d have to explain. But she didn’t have to.

“You’re right. It is.” One year earlier was when they’d discovered their son; where he lived, who he was. Who had been raising him all these years. And that very same day they’d learned he was dead.

Suddenly Mulder lurched up in his seat. “Scully. Grab your coat and wake up Lily. We have to go right now.” 

“What? Go where?”

Mulder looked at her with the certainty she’d learned over twenty five years never to question. “I know where he is.”

***

They raced across town as Mulder explained. He’d been right a million times in his life, and typically based on nothing more than a hunch. But he was more certain today than he’d ever been of anything. The minutes ticked by and he knew with more conviction every mile they were going to be reunited with their son again.

The cemetery was fairly deserted, as the weather was keeping most visitors away. But as Mulder expected, in front of two modest graves under a tall sycamore, Jackson stood. 

He and Scully approached quietly, not wanting to scare him or upset him. They’d been to this gravesite twice already and knew it well; paying respect to the people who had raised their son was important to them. Scully held a sleeping Lily close and Mulder opened his umbrella above them. It was drizzling and he didn’t want Lily to wake up.

“I didn’t even get to come to the funeral,” Jackson said without turning around, as if he’d been expecting them. “Feds were everywhere. I knew they were looking for me here.”

Mulder put his arm around Scully’s shoulders as they watched their son crouch down and touch one of the headstones. They were close enough to see the names now: _ Benjamin Van de Kamp. Karen Van de Kamp. _

“I couldn’t protect them,” Jackson said. Mulder could tell he was trying his hardest not to cry, not to betray his hard exterior. Scully sniffled, certainly feeling that same kind of failure deep in her gut.

Jackson turned to look at them over his shoulder. “They were good parents to me,” he said. “They did everything right. I was the fuckup. I can see that clearly now.”

They stood, just listening. He hadn’t run, for once. He didn’t tell them to leave. He was talking to them, really talking.

“Mom told me that she and my dad prayed for me for a long time. They couldn’t have children of their own, and she said the powerlessness she’d felt had been such a burden. I was all she ever wanted.” Scully softened at this, and Mulder knew she felt a shared empathy with the woman her son had called _ mom_. He felt strange having known so little about the people who had raised their boy. 

“When I showed up one day at their doorstep, their prayers had been answered. She felt free of that burden.” He reached out to touch his mother’s name. “We had a plaque above our front door back in Wyoming that read ‘_Unser Glaube ist unsere Freiheit.’” _

Scully turned to Mulder to translate. “‘Our faith is our freedom.’”

“My mom was part German,” Jackson explained. Mulder smiled, appreciating the weight of this. Looking down into Scully’s arms he saw the tiny bundle that was their own miracle. Then he looked up at Jackson, their first miracle, whom they’d both had faith for years they would see again someday.

“How did you know I’d be here?” he asked, really addressing them for the first time.

“A hunch,” Mulder answered with a smile.

“He gets those a lot,” Scully explained. Mulder was thrilled to see Jackson grin at that.

“I’m so sorry about your parents, Jackson,” she continued. It wasn’t enough, and they both knew it. But Mulder knew she’d been harboring guilt for what happened to them; they both had. They couldn’t help but feel somewhat responsible for placing the Van de Kamps in harm’s way. 

“I need to tell you this,” she continued. “When I made the decision to give you up, there were… things I didn’t know. I did what I did to keep you safe. I never meant for anyone to get hurt and I’m so sorry. I know it may not mean much. I just… I need you to know that.”

Jackson nodded at her, because it was probably all he could think to do. He wasn’t emotionally equipped to handle any of this and Mulder knew it. He was still just a kid, really.

“Can I ask you something?” Scully asked, sounding a bit hesitant. He nodded. “Why wouldn’t you let me see your face, back at the sugar factory?” Her voice sounded desperate, unfamiliar to him. It was a question Mulder was sure she’d rolled around in her mind again and again ever since that fateful night.

Jackson looked away from her, and every shift of his body betrayed his discomfort. “I wanted to make it as easy as possible for you to move on,” he replied. His honesty and maturity in revealing this was staggering. “I knew, or at least I thought, that I was going to die. And I knew if you looked me in the eyes you’d follow me anywhere.”

It was true. Mulder knew she would.

“When I was little, I had this favorite book,” Jackson continued. “My mom used to read it to me. And it just stuck with me over the years, this mom bunny who never gave up on her kid. She always followed him, no matter what. My mom was like that, and…” he looked at Scully. “I just knew. You’re like that, too.”

Mulder heard Scully draw a breath, and she held Lily close. 

“I don’t know you at all, but you’re still my m-” he paused. “My mother,” he finished confidently. 

She looked about to cry, and Mulder felt tears welling up in his own eyes at the admission. Everything about this moment felt impossible, but it was happening. 

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t be that to you,” she said. “I wanted to, Jackson. I wanted to, more than anything in the world.”

He was quiet. They all knew the truth.

“Can I ask… did you ever know… about me?” she asked quietly. “I mean, when did your parents tell you?”

“When I was eight, they told me I’d been adopted. I wasn’t surprised at all. I knew I was different. I always felt like an outcast so this final piece of the puzzle just confirmed my suspicions. And I got your letter,” Jackson said to Scully. “My mom gave it to me when I was twelve. She said she didn’t read it. Guess I’ll never really know.”

Mulder looked at her. “What letter?”

Jackson reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. He opened it and pulled out a small, worn, folded square of paper, holding it up. 

Scully looked at the square and her hand went to her mouth. “I wrote it to him the day I said goodbye. I put it in with his adoption papers,” she explained to Mulder. She eyed the letter. “May I?” 

Jackson offered it to her and shrugged. “You wrote it.”

She took it, unfolding it carefully, and handed it to Mulder. He recognized her script and read.

_ To my son _

_ One day, you'll ask me to speak of a truth - of the miracle of your birth. To explain what is unexplained. And if I falter or fail on this day, know there is an answer, my child, a sacred imperishable truth, but one you may never hope to find alone. _

_ Chance meeting your perfect other, your perfect opposite - your protector and endangerer. Chance embarking with this other on the greatest of journeys - a search for truths fugitive and imponderable. _

_ If one day this chance may befall you, my son, do not fail or falter to seize it. The truths are out there. And if one day you should behold a miracle, as I have in you, you will learn the truth is not found in science, or on some unseen plane, but by looking into your own heart. And in that moment you will be blessed- and stricken. For the truest truths are what hold us together, or keep us painfully, desperately apart. _

It was the first time Mulder had gained a clear insight into exactly what she must have been thinking, what she must have been going through at the time. That in the midst of it all she’d remembered Mulder, thought of him and his search. How it had inextricably linked the two of them forever, whether together or apart.

The truest truth was how much she loved her son to let him go. 

Mulder folded the note and handed it back to Jackson and without saying a thing he pulled Scully to him and kissed the side of her head. He just held her there and she sighed into his arms, their new baby nestled between them. Jackson watched them curiously.

She looked up at her son. He was so tall, just like Mulder. “I wanted you to have… something that was from me, that was… _ of _ me. I thought that if you knew I was real, if you knew I was out there thinking about you, that maybe…”

She trailed off and it seemed like she had made a decision not to finish her sentence.

“Maybe what?” Jackson asked immediately. 

She seemed to steel herself. “That maybe you could forgive me. That you could somehow understand that what I did… I did it because I loved you.”

Mulder knew she’d wanted to say this to her son for so long; to his face, not to a corpse. Although they both awaited his response anxiously, what was important was that she’d gotten to say it.

“There’s nothing to forgive,” Jackson said to her.

Mulder felt her hand squeeze his back and his mouth brushed against her hair as she nodded. The baby in her arms stirred, making a tiny sound. He knew Scully was smiling now, he could feel it. It was something he could tell without even looking at her. A gift, you could call it, or a very specific superpower. He’d never ask for another.

“Thank you,” she said softly. Jackson looked at her and smiled back, his hands in his pockets. 

“I’m sorry if you’ve felt alone these past several months, Jackson,” Mulder said. “You may think you don’t have anyone, but you’ll always have us. I hope you know that.”

Jackson stared at the grass for a moment, then looked up. “I’ve been doing a lot of… I don’t know. Soul searching, I guess, over the past few months.” He sighed. “I needed to start from scratch. Everything that happened that night was just… too much, it was too much to process.”

Mulder knew only too well what that night had felt like. It was nearly impossible for him to process, and he’d been surrounded by the unexplainable his entire life. He couldn’t imagine how a teenager would handle it.

"You were calling me 'William,' and it was... odd, but also kind of a weird comfort. My middle name is William," he explained. Mulder was surprised at this, but touched that his parents had obviously wanted him to retain a small part of his previous identity.

“Going off on my own felt like the right thing to do at the time, and somehow I knew you two would be fine,” he said, gesturing towards Lily. “You have your own lives, and your own future.”

“But Jackson,” Scully said. “We would never deny you a part of that future. If it’s what you want.” 

Mulder’s heart ached with conflict. Jackson was their blood, their family. Nothing could change that. But their bond was strictly biological; the boy had no connection to them in any real, tangible, emotional sense. He’d always think of Jackson as his son, and Scully would always think of him as her son, but they had no idea how he really felt. 

What she’d told Mulder that fateful night was indeed true: she was never a mother _to_ _him_.

“I appreciate that, I do,” Jackson said. “There are just… some things I need to figure out first.”

They both nodded, and Mulder wondered if this would ever happen; if Jackson could ever think of them as his family. He hoped like he’d never hoped for anything before.

“You know where to find us,” Scully said, and Mulder could tell she was trying her hardest not to cry. “Our door will always be open for you, Jackson.”

Jackson nodded, and turned towards the graves of his adoptive parents, placing his hand on each stone. He turned back to Mulder and Scully, and with one more smile he was gone once again.

***

It had been two months since they last saw their son. Mulder sat in their kitchen grading papers, as Scully read to Lily on the floor. Things had been wonderful, peaceful even, and although Scully knew everything was practically perfect there remained a small part of her that still waited; waited for the sound she knew would make life complete. She’d imagined the sound in her mind for months, years even. 

And on one quiet, unassuming Sunday afternoon she finally heard it.

_ *knock knock* _

She caught Mulder’s eye from her position on the floor as he looked up from the kitchen table and she knew from his look alone he’d been waiting for it, too. Daggoo leapt off the couch and ran to the door, barking and scratching. 

_ Could this be it? _they asked each other with their eyes. Mulder got up, every step towards the door feeling like an eternity, and when he opened it, there stood their son. 

Scully felt her heart in her throat, her white whale finally speared. 

Mulder held the door open for him and he tentatively stepped inside. Daggoo barked excitedly, eager to make a new friend. Jackson knelt down to pet him, and it was as if Daggoo already knew him. He licked Jackson’s hand and jumped up and down like a maniac.

Scully set the book down next to Lily, the words she’d only just read rolling around and around in her mind.

_ “If you become a tightrope walker and walk across the air,” said the bunny, “I will become a little boy and run into a house.” _

_ “If you become a little boy and run into a house,” said the mother bunny, “I will become your mother and catch you in my arms and hug you.” _

She stared at Jackson, tears forming in her eyes. And finally there was no more uncertainty. He moved towards her and she pulled him into an embrace, wrapping her arms around him tightly, and he hugged her back. 

Her son. He was home.

They held each other for a long time, and her eyes were closed for most of it but when they opened she saw Mulder standing there, watching them, his smile setting the room on fire.

She pulled back and looked at Jackson’s face, moving aside a tendril of hair that was so like Mulder’s used to be back when she’d first met him. His smile was genuine and warm.

“I’m here,” he said simply.

She held his upper arms and nodded. “We’re so glad.”

He nodded down to Lily. “Can I meet her? Officially?”

Scully wiped away a tear and nodded. “Of course you can,” she said. She knelt down to pick Lily up and offered her to Jackson. He took her gingerly and looked down at her face, and she immediately smiled. 

“This is your big brother, Lily,” Scully said as she stroked Lily’s strawberry blonde hair. “His name is Jackson.”

Lily lifted her arm and touched his face with tiny chubby fingers and he laughed.

Mulder came up beside them and there they all stood, as if they’d never parted ways. As if this was the way it had always been meant to happen.

_ Sometimes nothing happens for a reason. _

“Will you stay for dinner?” Mulder asked.

Jackson nodded. “I’d like that.” 

“Let me just clean up these papers and I’ll give you the grand tour, okay?” Mulder headed over to the table and began stacking up the essays, shutting down his computer. Jackson handed Lily back to Scully carefully and wandered over, watching him.

“What are you working on?” he asked, curious.

“Oh, just some papers I’m supposed to be grading, but.. I got distracted. Doing some research on monsters, actually.”

Jackson looked interested. “Monsters?”

Mulder laughed and looked over at Scully. _ Like father, like son. _Lily started grabbing at Scully’s chest, searching for her next meal, and she nodded gently, indicating for Mulder to show Jackson around the house while she took care of their daughter.

She took Lily into her room and sat down in the rocking chair, letting the baby settle in to nurse. She could hear Mulder and Jackson laughing downstairs and she smiled. After a moment she moved her hand to the back of her neck, her fingertips gently trailing over the raised flesh of her new scar where the chip had been removed a few months ago.

She closed her eyes, completely, utterly at peace.

_Free._

THE END

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "My Struggle 4" affected us all, in all kinds of ways. It was painful and bittersweet, and left much to be desired. We considered leaving the mythology alone for our season but decided there were things WE desired, and I wanted those things to come to fruition. I hope this episode left you with, at the very least, less to be desired. 
> 
> "Runaway Bunny" is written by Margaret Wise Brown.
> 
> Artwork is by admiralty. You can purchase [here](https://www.redbubble.com/people/x-filesseason12/works/40979526-x-files-season-12-novam-domum?asc=u) (all proceeds are being donated to Planned Parenthood.)
> 
> Huge love to our betas for Season 12: Nicole, Laia, Karen. Special thanks for Fiona for the help with the math. I hate math.
> 
> This has been a huge labor of love, a year in the making, and on behalf of @slippinmickeys and @rosethornhill we thank you for reading, truly.
> 
> I love feedback, so please leave it!
> 
> -a:)


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